


Washed Away a Dream of You

by ohfreckle



Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Thor (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Breeding, Comeplay, Fingerfucking, M/M, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 22:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1758405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohfreckle/pseuds/ohfreckle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just after the events of Agent of Asgard #1 Loki gets a surprise visit from his <i>big</i> brother Thor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Washed Away a Dream of You

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing but gratuitous size kink here, inspired by the the last few panels in AoA #1 and my firm believe that Loki is the biggest size queen ever.

One of the things Loki enjoys most about Midgard are showers. He can’t exactly explain why, but the steady downpour of hot water against his skin soothes him, makes him feel languid and relaxed in a way he’s never felt even after an indulgent bath in Asgard’s lavish bathing chambers. 

It would be a lie to say it’s the only indulgence he allows himself, but it’s the one he enjoys most frequently. 

Loki sighs contentedly and rinses his hair, slicking it back from his face before he pours a generous amount of shower gel in his hand even though he’s already as clean as he can get. He loves the feeling of hands sliding over his body, skin against skin, slick and warm, even if it’s only his own touch instead of a lover’s. He craves it, can never get enough of it and why should he? Nobody is here to stop him from such small frivolities in his own apartment. 

Home, sweet home and all that. 

That’s why the last thing he expects when he finally emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of steam is Thor standing in the middle of his bedroom. 

Thor is dressed casually, without his customary armor and cloak, and looks around, idly taking in his surroundings. 

Thor is always striking, but even more so with the gold of his hair set against plain black cloth and bronzed skin. The edges of his hair graze his skin where his simple shirt leaves it bare, the low dipping v of his collar and his upper arms. Loki takes him in and feels his skin prickle, ghosts of fingers teasing up his spine and settling against his neck. 

“Uh, hi,” Loki says. It’s so awkward he’s cringing inside and his voice is quivering a little more than he likes to admit. Even with their relationship as whole as it hasn’t been in centuries, their last encounter hadn’t left them exactly on the best of terms after a mission gone foul and seeing Thor so soon makes him feel— not afraid, but definitely cautious. 

Thor ignores him. He picks up the skimpy black briefs Loki carelessly left on the floor and examines them with great interest, his eyes slanting and flickering over Loki’s skin. Loki holds his towel with both hands to make sure it stays around his hips. 

He knew Thor would find him eventually, but he’d hoped for it to happen on his own terms. Not when he’s half-naked, caught off-guard and desperately trying to hide his body’s reaction to his brother fondling his underwear. 

“Did the Allmother send you?” Loki asks. It’s not what he really wants to know– _why are you here, did you miss me_ – but until he knows the reason for this unexpected visit it seems the safest course of conversation. 

“No.” 

Thor drops Loki’s briefs, letting them fall to the same spot from where he picked them up. He just stands there with his arms loose at his side, calmly watching Loki, and still his simple presence is filling the room around them until he’s all Loki can see. 

“I thought it would be best to look after you before they send you out for another assignment. See if you got yourself in trouble again.” A small smile is playing around Thor’s lips. The deep rumble of his voice sends a delicious shiver up Loki’s spine and he clutches the towel a little harder. 

“You really think I need looking after?” Loki laughs, a little breathless. “I can assure you I’ve been very good. You’d know if I weren’t. They would make sure of it.” 

He’s somewhere between annoyed and thrilled and–best and worst of all– hopeful, but it all narrows down to that Thor came for _him_. It’s exhilarating and makes Loki feel daring, gives him the courage to step closer and run a finger down the middle of Thor’s chest. 

His mouth goes dry at the way the firm flesh doesn’t give even when he applies a bit more pressure right over Thor’s navel. No matter how many people he fucks, he lies awake at night and dreams of this, touches himself to hazy memories until he’s raw and aching, wondering if Thor’s cock would fill this new body as completely as his mind remembers. 

Warmth envelops his fingers. Thor’s hand is large enough to almost close around Loki’s own completely, keeping him from touching him where Loki really wants to. 

“You need a lot more than just looking after, brother,” Thor says. His voice is rough, but there’s no real heat behind it, even after the things Loki did to him. “I should start with a proper spanking to punish you for your recklessness, but you’d probably enjoy it.” Thor flashes a quick grin before his eyes go soft, and Loki’s heart stutters in his chest at the roughness of Thor’s thumb sweeping over the inside of his wrist. “You need to be more careful, Loki.” 

Whatever deity made Thor choose to forgo his armor and visit him in only a light tunic and leggings, they have Loki’s eternal gratitude. He isn’t even trying to be subtle and lets his eyes slide lower, over the hard nipples pressing against Thor’s shirt down to the thick bulge of his cock, clearly outlined under the soft cloth. 

Thor follows the line of Loki’s gaze and gives a hoarse chuckle that sounds more than a little rueful. “I never said that I don’t want you.” 

Thor draws his free hand over his face, the rasp of the calluses on his fingers against the stubble on his chin strangely intimate between them. "I– I apologize, I shouldn’t have come to you like this. You are still too young to– “ 

„Ymir’s balls, surely by now you’ve noticed that I’m not a boy anymore," Loki interrupts him heatedly, the words tumbling out of him unbidden, and that’s _not_ a whine he can hear in there. Impatience and exasperation, surely, but not a whine. Norns help him, they’ve been fucking for millennia, and even if that was in another life, they’ve surely been dancing around each other long enough in this one. 

“Yes, you are. Your body may have matured, but that still doesn’t make you a man.” 

Loki will strangle the oaf, very slowly, and feed Thor’s entrails to his neighbor’s ugly pet pooch. If he won’t die of sexual frustration first. 

He doesn’t _want_ to be a man, he wants his big, strong brother to fuck him and make him take it. It’s not that unreasonable a request. Loki goes from half-hard to painfully wanting and wet just thinking about it, a bead of wetness briefly tickling his slit before it soaks into the fabric of his towel. 

And still, he can hardly let Thor know that the boy Thor still sees in him is long gone. But there are other ways to make Thor see reason. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Most men and women seem to like me just fine like this,” Loki whispers, looking up coyly at Thor from beneath his lashes. He bites his lip and lowers his towel, just enough to reveal the perfectly trimmed edge of inky hair. 

The darkening of Thor’s eyes is the only answer he needs. 

“Who dared to touch you?” The low snarl comes from somewhere deep in Thor’s chest, makes Loki shiver and his face grow hot. 

“They’re of no importance,” Loki says, pressing himself against Thor, anticipation coiling in his belly when he isn’t pushed away. “They aren’t you. Their touch doesn’t feel right, but it’s all I have. It’s all _you_ let me have with your unnecessary propriety.” 

Thor goes completely still against him. He’s still for so long that Loki starts to worry and almost thinks he played him wrong, but then Thor’s large hands suddenly are everywhere. 

Loki’s towel is carelessly tossed aside with a flick of Thor’s wrist and then there’s nothing but heat. 

Thor’s hand on Loki’s backside, one large palm cupping his cheek, the tips of his fingers pressing roughly into the cleft of Loki’s ass. The heat of Thor’s hand around his cock, just holding him with a firm but gentle grip. The intimacy of it almost makes Loki’s knees buckle, but he steadies himself with his hands against Thor’s chest and leans up, his mouth blindly seeking Thor’s. 

“Don’t think that I don’t know what you’re doing,” Thor growls. He bends his head and nips harshly at Loki’s bottom lip. “Norns forgive me, but I don’t care.” 

“Took you long enough,” Loki gasps. He’ll be as shamelessly obvious as necessary to make Thor forget this inconvenient fit of morals. He winds his arms around Thor’s neck and pulls himself up a little with his hands in Thor’s hair, impatient for those kisses he’s craved for so long, but Thor won’t budge. Instead he leans back a little and just looks at Loki. 

Loki’s blood runs hot at the heat in Thor’s eyes. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Loki huffs. He pushes impatiently into Thor’s hands on him and he doesn’t even care that now he _is_ whining. “I know you want this, I can feel it, so what–” 

Loki doesn’t get to finish because Thor’s tongue is in his mouth. 

“You talk too much,” Thor laughs between hard and deep kisses that make Loki’s toes curl into the thick carpet. “You let all these men and women touch you, and yet none of them has taught you that fucking doesn’t have to be a race?” 

A lesson in patience is the last thing Loki expects to hear from Thor, and no, a lot of his tumbles and trysts actually _are_ a race, trying to get off in cramped spaces or the back alley of a club before they get caught. 

He instantly loses that thought when Thor’s grip on his cock tightens just the slightest bit. Thor very gently moves his hand and Loki pushes his hips into the touch with a groan, desperate for the tight push-pull of his foreskin over the head of his cock. The slide of skin is slick and easy, eased by the wetness Thor is coaxing from him. 

Loki keens, desperate littles noises he can’t hold back, but Thor swallows them all, laps them right out of his mouth. Blood rushes in Loki’s ears with the beat of his heart when he realizes that Thor is tasting him, tracing the bow of his mouth with a quick swipe of the tip of his tongue before he licks deep again. 

Thor’s hands are hot and insistent on Loki’s skin, rough where they settle heavily against his hips, pulling him closer. Loki whines at the loss of friction on his cock, but it’s quickly lost in a gasp when Thor flexes his fingers and presses hard enough into Loki’s soft skin to bruise. 

“Harder,” Loki demands, covering one of Thor’s hands with his much smaller one. “I want to see your marks all over me. I want to feel this for days, want to touch myself and remember the things you did to me.” 

He can see himself already, pressing desperate fingers that aren’t big enough into himself, fucking himself with strokes that aren’t deep enough; not until he’ll press the fingers of his other hand into the dark bruises on his hips, and the fading hurt will almost be enough to make him think it’s Thor who’s touching him. 

Thor doesn’t fight him. He doesn’t even pretend that he doesn’t want this just as much as Loki and simply gives in with a low growl. His breath shudders out of him, his mouth hot against Loki’s while his fingers tighten hard enough to make Loki cry out, a small shocked sound that Thor swallows because it belongs to him. 

Then Loki is lifted effortlessly, held up by nothing but Thor’s hands cupping his buttocks and damn it all, Loki hopes he’ll bruise there too. 

“You ruin me, little brother,” Thor hisses through his teeth. Loki just holds on with a grin, pressing a jumble of _yes_ and _want to_ wetly against Thor’s throat. 

Thor deposits him on the bed without ceremony and pulls his tunic over his head as soon as his hands are free. He’s impatient and rushed and there’s the sound of threads ripping before the offending thing is finally gone and thrown carelessly aside. 

No amount of dreaming and hazy memories could have prepared Loki for just how magnificent Thor truly is. 

Loki kneels up from his sprawl on the bed because he’s itching to touch, wants to map the bulging muscles of Thor’s chest and shoulders with his hands and tongue. He wants to know if the hair on Thor’s chest is as soft as it looks, can’t wait to rub his cheek against it to find out, but most of all— 

“Show me your cock. Let me see it.” 

Thor seems to have waited for Loki’s breathless command. He’s already unlacing his leggings before the last word has tumbled from Loki’s lips, the hard muscles in his stomach rippling when he bends to shove them down his legs and rid himself of his boots. All of that registers in the back of Loki’s mind, and he _will_ map those hard ridges with his lips before the night is over, but right now he only sees the hard cock curving upwards from a nest of dark blond curls. 

Thor’s cock is everything Loki has dreamed of; a dusky pink, already wet at the tip, and long enough to be more than impressive, but it’s the girth of it that makes Loki bite his lip and his ass clench in greedy anticipation. He thinks he might actually have trouble closing his fingers around the heft of it, but when he reaches out to try his wrist is caught once again in Thor’s grip. 

Loki looks up at Thor from his kneeling position, unhappy at being denied again. “I want that inside of me,” he rasps, his throat tight with impatience and want. 

“You’re a filthy little thing,” Thor says. His voice is hot, just like his eyes. Loki has to consciously fight the urge to do something foolish, like spread his legs and beg. It’s much too early for that. 

“You may look different, but that is all that has changed. Still greedy for my cock, even the slightest touch is enough to make you spread your legs.” Thor kneels on the bed, forcing Loki to scoot back and lay back against the pillows. He crawls over Loki like a huge golden beast, the thick muscles in his arms shifting, and cages Loki in with his bulk. 

Their mouths meet in a rough kiss that tastes of years of wanting. Thor licks deep, almost bruising Loki’s lips with the force of his desire, but instead of feeling sated the fire in the pit of Loki’s belly only burns hotter. He needs Thor deeper, closer, and he claws his need into Thor’s back, moans his gratitude into Thor’s mouth when Thor slides a hand in his hair and tilts his head to a different angle, taking him in an even deeper kiss that leaves Loki gasping and his lips burning when they finally part for air. 

“Do your _men and women_ ever kiss you like this?” 

Even with his eyes closed Loki feels the smugness in Thor’s smile against his own lips. _Of course they do_ is already on the tip of his tongue, contradiction his first instinct as always, but that isn’t who he is, not anymore. He’s different now and even if he tried, his body would betray the lie way too easily. Already he’s pressing upwards into Thor, desperate to finally feel all of his brother. 

“You know they don’t,” Loki says instead, truthfully for once. His reward is another lingering kiss. For a moment he’s tempted to ignore his cock and the empty ache between his legs and just lie here until the sun rises, with Thor pressing him into the mattress, heavy and safe, his hair shielding them from the world outside like a golden curtain. 

“And where do you let them touch you?” 

Thor’s question is laden with barely concealed jealousy that sends a prickle of heat up Loki’s spine. He can’t help but preen a little at it and holds Thor’s eyes while he slides his legs apart, teasingly slow and just enough for Thor’s large hand to slip between his thighs. 

Thor’s fingers are pressing into his cleft, thick and heavy, and none of his fantasies have prepared Loki just how much larger than his own they are. They feel huge where they part his ass and Loki can’t help the small tremors that shake him, imagining how much larger Thor’s cock will feel. 

“Here?” Thor asks, his lips skimming Loki’s cheek, one blunt finger rubbing over Loki’s hole. It’s maddeningly slow, hot friction and slow pressure, right where Loki wants him hard and deep. “You let strangers put their cocks in you?” The slow burn of penetration, Thor’s finger slipping inside of him just the fraction of an inch. "Do you beg for their cocks like you do for mine, _little brother_?” 

The filthy innuendo in the familiar address sends a frisson of heat through Loki and settles heavily in the pit of his stomach. 

“Sometimes,” Loki breathes, clenching his ass around the digit spreading him open. It slips deeper, right to the first knuckle, and despite the dry burn that’s just shy of too much Loki can’t help the way his hips arch into the touch, seeking more. 

“Show me,” Thor rasps. 

Loki bites back an embarrassing sound that threatens to spill from his throat at the loss of heat and friction when Thor sits up, leaving him empty. 

“Please,” Loki whispers instead, sliding his legs wide, baring himself shamelessly. He trails his fingers over the smooth skin behind his balls, shivering at the familiar touch, and lower still, slipping between the cheeks of his ass and stroking lightly over his hole. Loki has watched himself often enough in the mirror to know how he looks like this, his black nails stark and lewd against his milky skin and the pink furl of his entrance. He watches Thor watch him and dips the tip of a finger inside. 

“I want you _right here_.” 

“Of course you do,” Thor says, so low it’s little more than a growl from deep within his chest. He settles between Loki’s legs, his hands rough and heavy against the backs of Loki’s thighs when he spreads him even wider. “And I’m going to fuck you _right here_.” 

This time the finger that slides into Loki sinks in easily right to the second knuckle, slick and wet. Loki dimly wonders when Thor found the lube he keeps under his pillow, but it’s not important, not when Thor is kneeling between his legs, looking like he’s perfectly fine to fuck Loki all night. 

“I am going to fill you up,” Thor rasps, “again and again. I will not stop fucking you until you are soaked and dripping with me and every other man is but a distant memory.” 

“Oh fuck, yes, _yes_ ,” Loki pants, writhing against Thor’s hand. He goes hot just thinking about it, can already feel the hot wet drip of come down his cleft with every push of Thor’s cock into him. Loki lays a hand on his flat stomach and looks down his body at Thor, challenging him to make good on his promise. 

“Fill me up then, until I’m full and my belly is swollen with you, and when I can’t take any more I want you to come all over me.” 

“You will smell like me until Ragnarök,” Thor promises and slides a second finger into Loki. 

Loki reels at the sudden burn and is still gasping with it when just seconds later a third finger is teasing at his rim. “Do it,” he hisses and goes rigid all over when Thor complies. 

The stretch is huge, already more than any cock Loki has taken in this form. He’s shaking with the sharp pain of being fucked, but there’s something else lurking behind it, something that’s just out of his reach–

“Move,” Loki groans helplessly, rolling his hips into Thor’s touch. 

“Still as demanding as ever,” Thor laughs, a low, hoarse chuckle that goes straight to Loki’s cock. He’s soaking wet already, his cock leaking over his stomach without even a single touch and Loki flushes, feels his cheeks go even hotter at the thought of what a picture he must make, shamelessly riding his brother’s hand. 

“Lovely,” Thor says, as if he’s reading Loki’s thoughts, or maybe Loki said it out loud. “Always so beautiful when you are seeking pleasure, in all of your forms.” He’s fucking Loki with shallow strokes, the pads of his fingers skirting where Loki wants him most. It’s close but never enough and Loki whines out his frustration, circling his hips, desperate to draw Thor deeper. 

“Yes, brother, just like that, _take_ what you want,” Thor coaxes. He’s watching Loki, his eyes hot and serious, and then —curse him all to Hel— he stills his hand. 

“No, _no_ , don’t you dare stop,” Loki stutters out. His heart beats frantically in his chest. He’s so close, he can already feel it licking at his spine, he just needs a little more. A single touch will be enough, but the moment he’s about to curl his fingers around his cock Thor catches them and presses his hand against the sheets. 

“Just a little longer. This is not a race, remember,” Thor murmurs. 

Thor presses a soft kiss to the line where Loki’s thigh meets his body and rubs his face into the crease. His beard is rough and scratches against the sensitive skin, a strange contrast to his hair that’s brushing softly against the side of Loki’s cock. 

Loki wants to scream. Soft, rough, hot, gods, _so hot_. There’s just so much too feel and the knot of arousal in his belly is winding tighter and tighter until Loki is shaking with it, ready to fly apart. 

Fuck patience, Loki is done being denied. Thor himself said to take what he needs, and so Loki plants his feet firmly against the mattress and fucks down hard on Thor’s fingers, too far gone to feel ashamed of the strained sounds of _can’t… need…_ he’s panting out. 

Loki barely hears Thor’s growl over the pounding rush of his own blood. He doesn’t know if it’s Thor’s rough voice— _Let me see then, brother_ — or Thor’s hand on his cock that sends him over the edge. 

All Loki knows is the rush of heat that explodes in his gut and makes his whole body throb with raw pleasure, his ass clenching around the thick fingers stroking him deep inside. His come pulses over Thor’s fingers in thick white streaks and Loki pushes up into Thor’s slick fist, mindlessly chasing the last tremors of his orgasm, and just when he’s too sensitive to bear it any longer, his whole body seizes at the feeling of Thor’s lips closing over the head of his cock. Thor suckles him slowly, just once, coaxing a last trickle of come from Loki’s spent cock before he pulls back with a soft groan. 

The soft, slick sound of Thor’s mouth releasing him is drowned out by a sob Loki only vaguely recognizes at his own. He’s still shivering his way down from his climax, his body unsure whether to push into Thor’s hand on him or to shy away from it. Thor seems to know exactly what Loki wants, though, and releases him with a slow twist of his wrist. Of course he knows, he’s spent centuries learning Loki’s body and all of its secrets and Loki feels absurdly grateful for it. 

The silence between them is only interrupted by their heavy breathing and the sound of Thor slicking Loki’s come over his own still brutally hard cock. Loki watches him lazily from where he’s reclining on the bed. He’s too boneless to do more than enjoy the view of Thor fucking his own fist, the plump head framed by Thor’s thick fingers, wet with Loki’s come. 

Loki groans at the sight of his mark on Thor. His frantic need may be sated, at least for now, but even with his cock nestling soft and spent against his thigh he’s still thrumming with want, needs that fat cock inside of him. 

”Inside, fill me up,” Loki rasps. He’s not sure if it’s a plea or an order, and he doesn’t care, as long as it gets Thor to finally give him what he wants. 

“Oh, I will, little brother,” Thor says. His voice is tight, a filthy promise. “Get me ready.” 

Sitting up seems like a tremendous amount of effort, but Loki manages to push himself up onto one elbow. Thor makes no move to help him, he just waits and watches Loki with a little smile. Loki can’t even muster the energy to feel indignant at Thor’s open smugness; he just holds out his hand for Thor and wiggles his fingers, shivering a little when Thor squirts a generous amount of lube into his palm, and then his hand is _finally_ on Thor’s cock. 

Loki was right. His fingers close around the thick shaft, but barely so. He strokes Thor slowly, gets him as wet as he can. He loves the heft of Thor’s cock against his palm, the delicate skin moving hot and smooth under his fingers. Loki’s breath hitches at the sheer girth of Thor and the thought of being fucked open by it. He circles his thumb over the thick ridge right under the crown, spreading the wetness there. The motion draws a full-body shiver from Thor, so Loki does it again, and again. 

Sometimes Loki forgets that Thor is the finest warrior in all the realms. He doesn’t even see Thor move and then he suddenly finds himself pinned to mattress, one of Thor’s hands closing over both of Loki’s wrists above his head, holding him down with no effort at all. 

“Loki…,” Thor growls. His face is sweaty and pinched tight, and Loki realizes only now that after neglecting his own need for so long Thor probably has no patience left for any kind of teasing. 

And still he’s asking for permission. 

“Yeah, yeah, I want it… gods, fuck me, can’t you not tell how much I… please…” 

The heft of Thor’s cock thumps against Loki’s hole, chasing away his frantic pleas on a rush of breath, and then there’s only heat and pressure. Thor shifts Loki’s wrists to one hand and presses in slowly, his other hand tight on his shaft to keep himself from just slamming in. Even like this, and with how stretched and relaxed Loki is, it burns and he can’t keep in his hiss of discomfort. 

Thor’s face is an intense mask of concentration, his eyes riveted to where he’s working Loki open, but he’s threading his fingers through Loki’s above his head, soothing him wordlessly. 

“You love this,” Thor rasps out. It’s not a question, but Loki nods anyways, gasps out a string of _yesyesyes_ while he arches off the bed, right as the widest part of Thor’s cock splits him open. Loki hears himself moan, his hole fluttering helplessly even if there’s barely any give with how tightly he’s stretched around Thor’s cock. 

“Nobody fucks you like this,” Thor snarls and slides deeper with a hard shove of his hips. He releases his cock and cups Loki’s hip instead, his fingers slick against Loki’s skin and digging deep into the bruises already blooming there. 

“Nobody _takes_ you like this.” Another hard thrust and Thor bottoms out with a harsh groan. He goes completely still, and before Loki has a chance to adjust to the overwhelming fullness he feels the hot spill of Thor’s come inside of him. 

Loki gasps and squeezes his eyes shut. His whole body is shuddering at how incredible Thor feels inside of him, hot and hard and just the right side of too big. He clenches tightly around Thor, his entrance constricting around the barely softened length inside of him. 

“Thor,” Loki exhales, his voice shaky with the heat that’s surging through him. He’s hard again, aching to touch, and suddenly he can’t bear for a second longer to not have his hands on Thor. He struggles against Thor’s hold on his hands, squirming and writhing against the unyielding bulk that’s keeping him immobile until Thor releases him with a grunt. 

Loki yanks him down into a harsh kiss that’s barely more than a sloppy slide of lips and tongues, too impatient and needy for any finesse. ”Fuck me, come on," he pants into the air between them. He can’t stop touching Thor, runs his hands up his brother’s arms and over his wide shoulders, drinking in the tightly coiled power in the perfectly chiseled muscles as they ripple under his palms. 

Thor fucks like he fights: savage, fierce and with a lustful joy. He fucks Loki with deep strokes, tears high, desperate noises from Loki on the long drag out and makes him choke on his own breath every time he slams in hard. 

”Fuck, fuck, fuck… deeper, dammit, Thor… deeper,” Loki begs, even if Thor is already as deep inside of him as he can possibly be. Loki is trembling with arousal, crying out every time the fat head of Thor slides over his prostate and leaves him breathless, shocks of pleasure exploding in his gut and curling up his spine. 

”Yes, let me hear you, brother,“ Thor demands, his breath heavy and labored. He comes again, but this time he doesn’t even falter in his movements and keeps pounding into Loki with harsh breaths, filling him with hot streaks of come. ”Let _everyone_ hear what I’m doing to you!" 

Loki keens high in his throat and strains against Thor’s heavy weight. Norns, he can’t have Thor close enough or deep enough, even with his arms wrapped around Thor’s wide chest and Thor rutting against him. Another hard thrust and the hard muscle of Thor’s stomach drags over his sensitive cock just right, sending him shivering apart in Thor’s arms. Loki comes with a hoarse shout, his nails scraping over the wide plane of Thor’s back while he drowns in a wave of heat. 

He will have to find yet another apartment, because the whole building must hear him and nobody can mistake his wanton groans and cries for anything but what they are: proof of how exquisitely and thoroughly he’s getting fucked.

”Again, fill me again,” Loki sobs out with a hiss. He’s full already, but Thor is wild over him, feral and reckless, fucking his own come out of Loki with powerful thrusts, and Loki needs more. He squirms on Thor’s cock, oversensitive and open now, his hole slick and burning with the heat Thor is pounding into him. Loki tries to roll his hips into Thor and match his pace, but it’s an impossible feat. 

Loki remembers this, countless nights of Thor fucking him for hours and hours until he was a trembling mess, all the tales about his prowess but a pale imitation of the beast truly Thor is. 

Thor kneels up and drags Loki onto his cock with no effort at all, his large hands spanning Loki’s narrow hips with ease. He shudders out yet another release into Loki, his teeth bared around a rasp of ‘take it, brother, _take it_ ’ and Loki loves it. 

Still, Loki isn’t going to come again any time soon. Somehow it’s even better like this. Without the urgency of chasing his orgasm he can focus on the heavy drag of Thor’s cock inside of him, the way his body yields and opens for his brother’s girth with every push inside. The stretch is incredible, too much and _finally_ enough, and Loki clenches slowly and deliberately around the thickness inside of him, groaning at the heat that races up his spine. 

Thor is close again. Loki can feel it in the way Thor hips stutter and the muscles in his shoulders are straining under Loki’s fingertips. 

”Look at me,” Loki pants out, his hands moving restlessly over Thor’s golden skin. ”Look how full I am—” 

”Full with my seed, right as you should be.” Thor is hulking over him, his face and hair sweaty with exertion and Loki has never thought him more beautiful. ”But you want more, don’t you, little brother.” 

Loki nods, unable to look away from Thor’s feverish, knowing look. He hisses at the sudden emptiness when Thor pulls out, and then he feels it, the hot splash of come on his oversensitive hole. Thor strokes himself with short flicks of his wrists, painting Loki’s entrance with thick spurts of come. It’s slick and wet, gods, so wet; filthy and obscene and everything Loki dreams of at night. He digs his nails in the meat of Thor’s chest hard enough to blood and grits his teeth at the raw, hot burn in his belly, rides out a wave of heat that’s all the more intense for his still limp cock. 

Thor collapses heavily on him with a grunt, a heavy mass of skin and heat that takes away what little breath Loki has left. Loki sprawls under him and breathes him in, unwilling to move until he absolutely has to. 

Thor rolls them over eventually with a grunt. He doesn’t get up to get a wash cloth or something equally chivalric, instead he just arranges Loki to lie half on top of him, his breath already evening out. 

Loki listens to Thor’s steady heartbeat under his cheek. After the mind-blowing fuck he just received he can’t begrudge Thor that he fell asleep. Loki is bone-tired himself, but he can’t stop replaying every deep and perfect slam into his body. 

Loki’s hole is burning raw and he can’t help it, he needs to feel how fucked open he is. He curls in on himself and reaches back between his cheeks, moaning quietly at the stickiness and wet slide of come and lube. His fingers slip in easily, but no matter how he bends and twists, they aren’t enough, not after he just had Thor’s cock. 

”Ymir’s balls, Loki, stop fussing,” Thor huffs, his voice deep and rough with sleep. Loki stiffens and feels his cheeks go warm, suddenly irrationally shy at being caught fingering himself. He didn’t even realize he’s been moving enough to wake Thor. 

Thor’s fingers close around his wrist, slowly nudging Loki’s fingers out and replacing them with three of his own. He moves them slowly inside Loki, stroking him with a circular motion that has Loki gasping wetly against his chest within seconds. 

”Is nothing ever enough for you, you greedy tart,” Thor rumbles, but the underlying fondness belies the harshness of his words. ”Will that satisfy you until I have recovered?” 

Loki eagerly nods his assent. He presses his smile into Thor’s chest, glad that he won’t have to ask Thor to be in there morning. 

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all feedback is much appreciated! For updates, snippets and whinings on my fics, feel free to add me on [tumblr](http://ohfreckle.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](http://twitter.com/ohfreckle)


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